Chapter 3 - PinkThen, two weeks ago, everything escalated. I opened my front door one morning, keys in hand, and stared at my car. For several seconds, my brain couldn't process what I was seeing.
My car was pink. And I don't mean someone had splashed a little paint on the hood. The entire vehicle had been covered — roof, doors, trunk, windows, mirrors, even the headlights. It wasn't professionally done either. Thick streaks along the doors, drops hardened down the sides, the windshield almost completely covered.
I walked closer in disbelief. "What the hell?"
Then I slowly looked toward Corinne's house. Her curtains were closed.
The trash cans had been annoying. The hose had been childish. This was something else entirely. Someone had deliberately ruined my car.
I called the police immediately. An officer walked around the vehicle taking pictures.
"Do you have security cameras?"
"No."
"Did anyone see anything?"
"Not that I know of."
"Do you have evidence connecting anyone to this?"
I glanced toward Corinne's house. "No. That's the problem."
The officer nodded sympathetically. Without witnesses or footage, there wasn't much they could do. I felt ridiculous — someone had been standing on my property long enough to cover an entire car in paint, yet I couldn't prove who did it.
Later that day, I saw Corinne near the fence. I almost ignored her. Instead I stopped.
"Someone painted my car last night."
Her eyes widened dramatically. "No!"
"Yes."
"The whole car?"
"The whole thing."
She acted shocked. Concerned, even. "That's horrible."
I watched her carefully. "I called the police."
"Good. You should."
Nothing changed in her expression. No nervousness, no hesitation, nothing I could use.
"I hope they figure out who did it," she added.
"Me too."
May you like
Then she smiled and went back inside.
That was when I finally ordered security cameras. Too late to catch whoever had damaged my car — but I refused to let anyone walk onto my property unnoticed again.
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